


Ferreting Mishaps

by ComicalMoose



Series: Ego Band/College AU ? [1]
Category: Sean McLoughlin - Fandom, jacksepticeye
Genre: ? - Freeform, Bros Bein Bros, Character Development, College AU ?, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, I swear this has a happy ending, M/M, Mention of physical injury, Other, Swearing, and backstory for this whole thing in general, anti’s ferret is a good boy, anyway, band au ?, but he’s mischievous, can be platonic or romantic whichever ya want, i dunno tags, i swear by slight angst I mean slight, idek what to consider this thing lmao, just some cute fluff tbh, kinda a band au/college au sorta thing idk ?, like it’s mainly for world building and character development, mention of bad breakup, slight angst, slight angst with a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 04:38:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17237576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComicalMoose/pseuds/ComicalMoose
Summary: Chase and Anti just want to practice a new song they’d been experimenting with, but Anti’s ferret has other plans.————TW: some swearing, mention of bad breakup (Chase and Stacy), mention of physical injury (Anti’s scar/wound- in this it’s healed but scarred over)





	Ferreting Mishaps

**Author's Note:**

> Not kidding, this was inspired by me playing a piano game on my phone (since I don’t have a physical piano) and my dog repetitively licking at my hands and messing me up haha
> 
> Also inspired by @/cinnamongrump (Tumblr) Band AU
> 
>  
> 
> Un-betaed, so all mistakes are mine

“‘Ey, bro, where’s Rogue?” Chase murmured, carefully pulling his guitar off over his shoulder and setting it down on the ground as he plopped back on the couch with a drowsy sigh. They hadn’t been practicing very long- as a matter of fact, Chase had only gotten to Anti’s home about an hour ago- but neither had gotten the greatest amount of sleep last night. Up late studying for a stupid exam.

 

Still, they both agreed to unwind through music- it being one of the few things Anti and Chase had in common. Unfortunately, the rest of the group couldn’t make it this time around- Marvin and Jackie had a Physics test to study for, Henrik had work, and Jameson was volunteering at a shelter- but at least that gave Chase and Anti time to experiment with a different song the two had been working with.

 

“He’s right ‘ere,” Anti replied absentmindedly, scratching Rogue’s head gently. The cinnamon brown ferret was draped along Anti’s shoulders, resting lazily. “Why? Ye wanna pet him?” The bassist grinned, a sparkle of mischief in his eye.

 

Chase chuckled, sitting up in a better position as Anti flopped down beside him. “If he’ll let me, sure.” Anti nodded, then he gently urged Rogue off his shoulders, watching as the ferret crawled down his outstretched arm and into Chase’s lap. There, he curled up lazily, relaxing into the guitarist’s touch as Chase softly stroked his fur.

 

The three stayed in that position for a few moments, then Anti stretched out like a cat, stood up, and began making his way toward the kitchen. He paused in the doorway, turning back to Chase, who was leaning his head against the back of the couch sleepily, idly petting the ferret. “I’mma get a beer,” Anti announced, gaining the guitarist’s attention as Chase opened his eyes drowsily and glanced at Anti. “Ye want one?”

 

Chase groaned then barked a short laugh. “Hell, I would, but Marvin’ll have my head if I drink. Get me a water, if ya don’t mind?”

 

“Nah, I’ll let ye die of thirst,” Anti sniped in a sarcastic monotone, hearing Chase’s laughter as he opened the fridge to grab himself a beer and the guitarist a bottled water. Normally, he would’ve tossed the bottle to Chase when he reentered the room, but with Rogue curled in the other’s lap, he decided that was a bad idea. Chase wasn’t the best at catching anything but a cold, so the bottled waters generally ended up, albeit a bit painfully, falling onto his crotch.

 

Of course, his pained grunt always elicited a round of snickers and amused laughter from the rest of the group, who all knew too well how bad Chase’s catching skills were. Though, the guitarist never minded, nor did he give up trying.

 

Anti smiled fondly at the thought, walking over to Chase and handing him his drink before sitting down on the couch beside him again, careful not to disturb Rogue.

 

“Thanks, man,” Chase mumbled, promptly taking a swig.

 

Anti took a swig of his own drink and hummed in acknowledgement, capping the bottle after a few gulps. Setting the bottle on the coffee table before him, the bassist stood to his feet once again and picked up his bass guitar, which was leaning against the side of the couch, adjusting it onto himself then playing a few notes idly.

 

Frowning, Anti reached up and retuned the instrument, finding a note not quite in place. Chase lifted his head tiredly, watching the bassist strum interestedly. It was always nice when Anti played without much of a care, not really trying to impress anyone or focus on getting everything right, just relaxing with the music. It was calming, serene even. Anti wasn’t that carefree, but with his music, with his bass, he could relax properly, he could feel the weight and pressure of everything slipping from his shoulders.

 

The bassist strummed slowly, not really looking for a specific tune, just something that sounded nice. Something simple and peaceful. Chase smiled fondly, sitting up to watch Anti better, despite Rogue protesting the movement and skittering off the guitarist’s lap. Anti’s eyes were closed, lashes fluttering softly every now and then, his face relaxed and calm, his lips parted the slightest bit, as he just let the melody consume him, strumming wherever felt right in that moment.

 

Chase reached for his own guitar carefully, not wanting to disturb the fellow musician. Rogue had gone somewhere, probably to sleep properly, and Chase vaguely thought to search for him. However, listening to Anti’s calming bass and knowing there wasn’t much trouble or danger the ferret could get into, he changed his mind quite quickly.

 

“I know yer watchin’,” Anti murmured suddenly, and, despite his flushing cheeks, Chase couldn’t find it in himself to be ashamed of being caught. Anti smirked and continued, “You ever gonna play too, or ye just gonna keep starin’?”

 

“I dunno, the view’s nice,” Chase joked, glancing down briefly.

 

Anti rolled his eyes and nudged Chase’s leg with his foot. “C’mon, get yer guitar ready. I wanna see how this song does.”

 

They were practicing a new song- well, not necessarily new, it was a cover, but it was a genre they hadn’t tried before.

 

Chase chuckled, then did as he was told, tuning his guitar briefly (it hadn’t been jostled much from when he’d last tuned it), then bringing it over his shoulders, adjusting the strap as he stood next to Anti.

 

“Ready?”

 

“Whenever you are,” Chase replied, grinning. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was itching to just play already, the guitar strings taunting his fingertips.

 

“Ye wanna sing this one?” Anti murmured, knowing full well how much Chase adored this song. (Not to mention the guitarist had the lyrics memorized.)

 

“Do I need a mic?”

 

“Nah, yer loud enough already,” Anti smirked. “It’s only me who needs to hear ye, anyway.”

 

“Then, sure,” Chase responded, a bit too quickly in hindsight.

 

With that, Anti’s smirk softened to a gentle smile, as he began tapping his foot to the beat of the song Chase knew so well.

 

Chase picked up the signal, listening to the beat slowly, then he began strumming the proper notes, focusing on his own timing as Anti began playing along, the two synchronized. Both were quick to lose themselves in the music, and after a few moments, Chase was singing.

 

“When you were here before,” Chase sang lowly, his soft voice quiet yet nice alongside the guitar and bass. Anti relished in the sound of his voice, not being able to hear Chase sing often. After all, he was only comfortable doing so around Anti and Marvin, so it was a rare chance to hear him. Not only that, but Anti just enjoyed hearing someone sing when he himself couldn’t. At least, properly. “Couldn’t look you in the eye. You’re just like an angel..”

 

He still liked to try just for the fun of it- even with his damaged and scarred vocal cords- but right now was Chase’s time. Anti didn’t want to ruin it with rough, scratchy vocals.

 

“Your skin makes me cry,” Chase sang, his voice a murmur, his eyes fluttering closed as he let himself fall into the depths of the melody, fingers strumming the guitar almost breezily. “You float like a feather.. In a beautiful world..” Chase opened his eyes slowly and looked over at Anti, noting the other’s closed eyes and furrowed brows. “And I wish I was special..” Chase let his gaze travel to the bassist’s throat, a frown forming on his lips, as he stared sadly at the scarred and broken tissue, at the wound that took his friend’s voice.

 

“You’re so fuckin’ special..” Chase murmured, not sure if he was directing his words at Anti or simply singing them into the open air. Then, his and the bassist’s strumming picked up, as they transitioned into the “heavier” part of the song. “But I’m a creep,” Chase continued, pouring his heart into the words, turning his gaze away from Anti’s throat and taking a side-step closer to the bassist. “I’m a weirdo..! What the hell am I doing here?

 

I don’t belong here..” Chase gently nudged Anti’s leg with his foot, gaining his attention. The bassist glanced over to him with a quirked brow, and Chase gave him a soft smile then gestured to his own throat, urging Anti to sing. The bassist’s eyes widened, and he turned his head, biting his lower lip. Chase didn’t really want to hear that, did he?

 

Anti glanced back at the guitarist, and, with the kind look he was giving him, found that yes, he did. He held his breath for a moment, debating, then let it out slowly, nodding his head the slightest bit.

 

“I don’t care if it hurts,” Anti sang lowly, wincing at the tough scratchiness he heard. He hated sounding like a static-filled radio station, his voice raspy and rough, but if Chase didn’t mind, Anti would enjoy the fun of singing once again, regardless of how bad he probably sounded. “I want to have control,” he rasped, mindful not to strain his voice too much. Out of the corner of his eye, Anti could see Chase grinning at him, almost proudly, and Anti’s heart lurched into his throat at the thought. Someone was-... Chase was... proud of him.

 

The bassist smiled softly, gradually growing more confident in his words, in his voice- both musicians could tell- until he was singing a bit louder, still scratchy and raspy but happily, pouring his heart and soul into his singing just as he was with his bass.

 

“I want you to notice.. When I’m not around..” Anti glanced at Chase, silently thanking him for the courage he’d given him. Chase had his eyes closed again, focusing on and relishing in the melody of his guitar. “You’re so fuckin’ special..” Anti rasped in a murmur, wanting Chase to know how true those words were. Chase opened his eyes as Anti turned away and continued in a whisper, “I wish I was special..”

 

“But I’m a creep!” They sang together, Anti surprised by the sudden addition but not angered. Rather, he was relieved to hear the guitarist singing again. “I’m a weirdo..” Both hummed to the empty air, listening to each other’s music with soft smiles.

 

“What the hell am I doing here?”

 

“What the hell am I do- ack!”

 

They had just gotten to the next lyric when Anti yelped all of a sudden, startling and instantly worrying Chase. The guitarist relaxed, however, when he saw the reason for Anti’s yelp, but couldn’t help the bout of giggles he let slip. Rogue had clambered his way up Anti’s pant leg and under his shirt, and now had his head poking out of the bassist’s collar, sniffing and nuzzling Anti’s scarred throat affectionately.

 

“Aw, c’mon bud, I’m tryna play,” Anti chuckled, then he promptly sputtered a quiet cough.

 

Looks like they- or at least Anti- needed a drink, anyway. Of course, instead of opting for getting a new bottled water from the fridge, the bassist grabbed Chase’s, muttering a rasped “Mind if I..?” then, with the guitarist’s permission, he gulped down a few drinks.

 

“Thank you, by the way,” Chase murmured, grinning at the other.

 

“Hm?” Anti raised a brow.

 

“For singing,” Chase elaborated, Anti averting his gaze as the guitarist smiled sadly. “I know it’s difficult, so thank you for doing it for me.”

 

Anti swallowed before speaking again, his voice a low murmur. “Anytime, man,” he rasped, throwing a gentle smile in Chase’s direction. He handed the guitarist his water when he asked, staying silent as Chase took a few sips. When the guitarist capped the bottle and set it back on the coffee table, Anti brought up, “Ye ready to continue? We can just pick up round where we left off.”

 

Chase nodded after readjusting his guitar strap. “Ready when you are, bro.”

 

Anti grinned and began tapping his foot, counting the two down until they began strumming in sync, picking up the tune just a few notes before the lyric they were cut off on.

 

“What the hell am I doing here?” The duo chorused, Rogue’s fur tickling Anti’s damaged throat. The bassist’s voice was softer now, still passionate but quiet, careful not to ruin his vocal cords any further. Chase relished in his singing nonetheless, happy that he was confident enough to continue. “I don’t belong here!”

 

Anti finished the line with a cough, murmuring to Chase, “no worries” and that he was fine when the guitarist shot him a worried look. Chase nodded slowly, keeping a watchful eye on Anti as the two continued playing. Anti didn’t sing the next few lyrics, relaxing his vocal cords for a bit. His ferret affectionately nuzzled his throat again, as if to say it was okay and he’d take care of Anti.

 

The bassist smiled softly at Rogue’s actions, then his smile morphed into one of sorrow and sympathy, as Chase sang the next lines. He knew how close to home those words hit, and it sickened Anti to think of her.

 

“She’s running out again,” Chase murmured softly, much quieter than how he had been singing. Anti could swear his heart broke, hearing the pain in Chase’s words. “She’s running out.. She runs runs runs... runs...” The guitarist’s voice cracked for a moment, but he ignored it, and he ignored her. “Whatever makes you happy...”

 

“Whatever you want,” Anti joined in quietly, noticing Chase smile, out of the corner of his eye.

 

“You’re so fuckin’ special,” the two sang together, their souls harmonizing with their words. “I wish I was special... But I’m a creep... I’m a weirdo...

 

“What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here...

 

“I don’t belong... here...” Both musicians finished at the same time, their singing and strumming coming to a steady close. Anti choked out another harsh cough as he shifted into a resting position, still standing but more relaxed.

 

With an airy chuckle, the bassist whispered, voice scratchy, “Think that’s enough singin’ for today.. For me at least.”

 

“You did good, though.” Chase smiled softly. “I’m proud of you.”

 

“Thanks,” Anti murmured, smiling in return. “Anyway, I dunno ‘bout you, but I‘d say that song sounded pretty sick.”

 

“Yeah, we definitely have to do it again sometime,” Chase agreed, chuckling lightly. “It was fun. Got my mind off her for a bit, too. Sort of..” Chase fell silent after that, staring absentmindedly at the crossed-out name written in sharpie on his guitar.

 

After a few minutes, Anti croaked, quietly, “Ye all right, Chase?” Huh. Usually he tended to stick to nicknames, unless it was serious.

 

“Yeah...” the guitarist breathed, avoiding eye contact. Anti knew what that meant. “Yeah, I’m fine...”

 

Chase was lying.

 

Anti swallowed carefully as he removed and set down his bass guitar, Rogue shifting a bit when the bassist moved. Then, he carefully took off Chase’s guitar as well, setting it beside his bass, and pulled Chase in for a hug.

 

Chase accepted the action immediately, gratefully, as he hugged Anti back tightly and buried his face in the bassist’s shoulder. He didn’t realize when the tears came, but soon Anti’s shirt was damp from them.

 

No words were spoken for a few moments- they didn’t need to be- as Anti rubbed soothing circles into Chase’s back and Chase cried into Anti’s shoulder. They stayed in that position for a bit, both needing the comfort.

 

“I’m sorry,” Anti whispered, his voice giving out on him gradually. He barely heard Chase murmur “not your fault,” but his heart still broke at the sound. “I know, but still...” Anti trailed off, knowing he didn’t need to elaborate. Chase could tell what he meant.

 

Slowly, Chase’s crying calmed down, until it was nothing but sniffles and quiet whimpers, then nothing at all, the duo falling into a comforting silence. Neither minded, however. It was nice, actually.

 

“...You wanna keep playin’ or take a break for a bit?” Chase mumbled after a few moments, pulling his head back just enough for Anti to hear him properly.

 

“That’s up to you,” Anti rasped, barely above a whisper. Chase’s eyes flicked to Anti’s scar briefly, frowning at the memory it resurfaced, his hand coming up to rest on the bassist’s shoulder, near his throat.

 

“‘Think you need to take a break for sure,” Chase murmured softly, staring almost forlornly at the other’s damaged throat. “Let your body rest up a bit.”

 

Before he could muster a reply, Anti’s breath hitched and he tensed for a second then relaxed, as he noticed Chase staring at his scar with a frown and felt the guitarist’s fingertips graze the left edge of the sealed wound. Taking Anti’s reaction into consideration, Chase asked the other if what he was doing was okay (to which Anti murmured it was fine, after a brief moment of thought) and moved slowly.

 

Chase grazed his fingertips along the side of the scar, where the skin was raised and a bit torn in some areas, with a featherlight touch, then he traced the length of the wound with the pad of his thumb, feeling and hearing Anti’s breath hitch in surprise.

 

“I’m sorry,” Chase murmured, not realizing he had spoken out loud but also not regretting it. He couldn’t take his eyes off the damaged tissue before him as he spoke.

 

With a lighthearted grin, Anti repeated what Chase said earlier. “Not your fault.”

 

Chase cracked a small grin himself. “I know, but still,” he parroted, earning a scratchy chuckle from Anti.

 

“Yer right, though, we probably should take a break,” Anti mused, and Chase took that as a cue to remove his hands. Of course, Anti actually didn’t mind, but it did make it easier to flop down on the couch again, murmuring an apology to Rogue as the ferret scrambled out of the way so as to not be crushed.

 

Chase snickered and promptly plopped down beside Anti, feeling Rogue climb onto his stomach, deciding to rest there. Chase instantly resigned to his fate, as the ferret curled up to sleep, and leaned back, resting his head on the relatively-scattered pillows. Anti was lying flat on his stomach beside him, his head positioned next to Chase’s leg.

 

Well, it was, until Anti decided Chase’s thigh was a better pillow than the couch cushion. Chase sighed, playing with Anti’s hair absentmindedly. A bit drowsily, he decided to rest his eyes for a bit, relaxing into the couch.

 

Hearing the bassist snore, he knew Anti was doing the same.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I told you it had a happy ending.  
> I can do fluff I swear-  
> *cough* for the most part *cough*
> 
>  
> 
> (I swear I wouldn’t be able to write pure fluff if I only had three words- )


End file.
